


I am a Timepiece, not a Clock

by Bornon413



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: F/M, whoops my hand slipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bornon413/pseuds/Bornon413
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which concepts live on, but things do not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am a Timepiece, not a Clock

They had only spent about a week in the house together and you had only seen her once. You doubted that she would even notice you, what with all her distracting of the poppets and whatnot.

Or at least, that's what you called the three odd creatures that lived in the house with all of you.

There was Harry, who had oddly long and bright red hair and seemed to be overly pessimistic. Manny, who styled his hair up into a blue tuft on his head and didn't appear to be very bright and there was also Robin, an older man who asked too many questions for your --and apparently her-- liking. You were not very fond of them, to be entirely honest, but at least they were idle playthings that you could toy with when you were bored because manipulating them was all too easy for you.

That was until you saw _her_.

She was just a good manipulator as you were and she had a particular creative spark in her eyes that left you positively _green_ with evny.

You say green because you know she hates that color with all her heart. You would often wonder if she noticed you in the dead of night as you snuck from room to room and added a few more minutes onto the life span of the poppets without their conset because you found it positively amusing.

Although, the day after your lesson on time, you knew that she had seen you at least twice and now you couldn't help but be genuinely excited to meet her officially and you wondered just what your relationship would be like. You hoped she would feel as envious of your ability to manipulate time as you felt about her creativity. You could only dream that your relationship would be as decadent as the aging of bodies and trees and maybe just a little bit more exciting and quick witted than the wierdos that lived with you.

But alas, you were only a clock.

One night while you were sneaking about, armed with your trusty minute sword, you felt a tug at the back of your trench coat and turned around only to find her stading behind you, outlined in the moonlight sifting through the window. She had one hand grasped in the colored pages and organ patterns of her skirt and the other tucked behind her. Hair hair was multicolored and mussed and she had to be at least a whole head shorter than you. Her eyes were wide and innocent and rimmed with black ink that somehow made them look larger. You would have been fooled by her childish appearance if you hadn't already watched her at work.

You subconciously reached towards your minute sword as she spoke. Her voice was light, "Are you Tony the talking Clock?"

"Why, yes." You said with a curt nod, "But I am not actually a clock. I am a timepiece. Who might you be?"

Her pale and innocent face stretched out into a grin, "Nancy. Nancy the talking Notebook."

You would have held out your hand to shake it with hers, but you noticed what she was holding behind her back. It was a pencil, sharpened to a deadly point. It took you fractions of a second to realize what was coming and she leaped towards you, pencil steadfast in her grip. You jumped back and drew your sword and it collided with the surprising amount of force that she carried in her wiry arms. Her grin was absolutely infections and you couldn't help but let your own smile twist your features. You fought back even harder.

She ducked backwards when you swung at her, her voice a mix of laughter. "So then, talking Timpiece, will your onslaught ever cease?"

"I don't know," You said as you spun around and her pencil snashed into the side of your sword. You saw your chance and snagged her arm. "Maybe it's time for you to let go."

You squeezed her wrist in your gloved hand and she winced and dropped her pencil. You angled the sword at her throat and grinned. You began to laugh and put away your sword and drew her up into a hug. She laughed with you.

"Almost got you!" You said between breaths. You gave her a squeeze and felt her kick your legs.

"I'll kill you next time!" She said with a happy smile.

You put her back down and gave her a wink, "Now run along, then. Shoo."

She picked up her pencil and gave me a playful slap on the behind. "Perhaps on the clock's thirteenth chime."

This sort of thing carried on for months.

You absolutely loved it.

The only hours of the day that you looked foward to was when the both of you were fighting and nearly tearing out each other's necks and it was glorious. The both of you always slipped into ryhme when you were near each other and even the poppets began to notice. You figured that there was a good chance that they were at least glad that the two of you were leaving them alone.

Although, there was one lesson the you taught the three of them that you had forgotten about yourself and that is that time will pass and ideas will live forever, but things will rot and die.

You remembered this because you both got more careless as time went on. Your harmless scratches soon became deep gouges and the both of you seemed to have clothes that only become more red. Of course, after these injuries were torn into the world, the both of you would immediately stop fighting and you would tend to your individual wounds, she drawing bandages and stitches over hers and you aging the spots by a few months. It was all very tiring.

One day, however, you both were too careless.

You don't remember who started it, but it doesn't really matter because you were both fighting and it was exciting. You had swung at her and she had almost bent back to the floor as you proclaimed, "There is a time and a place for mucking around!"

"Woah there friend you might need to slow down!" She stood back up and eyed the pencil grasped in her fist. "I wonder what wonders we two can create?"

You prepared for another swing. You decided it would be good to end this fight now because you had an imporant schedule to keep today. "Would you please cut the chatter? I can't stand to be--"

You were about to swing and she caught you off gaurd and felt a pain shooth through your entire body. You gasped and looked down at the pencil embedded in your left breast, right over the heart. You felt your sword slip form your grip as you fell to the floor, blood welling up from around the pencil.

"--late." You finished.

Your vision was hazy and as you looked up, you realized that her hair was beginning to look less than crazy. Her eyes were wide in shock at what she had done.

"Who said I was finished?" She began to crawl towards you and grabbed a chunk of your blue and yellow bangs, "Who said I was done?"--she craddled your face in her hands--"How dare you end when we've only just begun?"

You thought back to one of your favorite, and now your final lesson as you reached up and wiped away a runny black tear from her eyes. "Oh, but everything ends. Even me and even you."

She wrapped her arms around you and sniffled as you spoke. You smiled and reached towards the hilt of your sword. "So wouldn't it be fun if I ended you too?"

The sword ran through her body with a dim squelch and the front of her dress began to bloom bright red. The both of you smiled together and began to sing.

"Yes, everything ends and everything stops. Even you, even I." You kissed her for the last time, but you both continued singing until the very last words, "Even paper and even clocks."

 

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> Because it's not an obsession until you write for it, right?  
> Inspired by: http://papa-heichou.tumblr.com/post/74021024252/baeddeldeerfeet-lysanderandco


End file.
